Wicked Maliko

[PonoBill]

It's been a few weeks since I've done a Maliko. Today looked great. Boyum and I agreed to meet at 11 AM and shuttle. We hit the water about 12:00. And then all hell broke loose.

I think if we had about a week of reasonable Malikos before this one we would have been hooting and happy. As it was, it was kind of grim. The wind was ripping and the rollers coming across the mouth from two days of fierce east wind were fucking monsters. Supposedly 14 feet from the east. If those were 14 feet them I'm 12 feet tall. Of course, when the swell comes to the mouth it's in some shallower water, so it stacks up a bit. But wind swell is short period and doesn't stack a huge amount. These looked like three-story buildings.

As I cleared the rock at the entrance the wind blew me off my board. I didn't lose my balance--I was blown off. Boyum paddled past me and got blown off. Well, okay then.

We turned and were off to the races. Fricken' flying. Zero to lightspeed in fifty feet. Insane bumps. Most of the really big drops I was stalling out of or carving down the face at an angle--too big to drop into. And too much stuff coming in from the side. I didn't fall until Bill pulled alongside me and I got distracted. When it's that crazy I can't afford to lose my concentration of a second. 

I expected the wind to mellow out a big by mid run, but when we got to camp one it doubled down. It just got flat out insane. Boyum angled towards the reef, which looked loony to me. I watched him skirt some huge breakers that were angling in at upper Kanaha--all windswell, but it refracts in and it can come out of nowhere and tag you. I stayed out even though I knew the wind was a bit offshore. I expected the wind to turn somewhat onshore by Kanaha. I was wrong--I was too far out. I started falling just after lower Kanaha and couldn't stop. I was angling in as hard as I could to make the Harbor. At one point I thought I was in good shape for the entrance an then realized I was aiming at the warehouses in Weihu. I couldn't afford to miss the harbor--sandpiles was completely lit up and huge. All those 15-foot windswells were pounding it. I'd be hamburger.

I finally got tired of falling and just Pocahontas-ed the last few hundred yards to the entrance. Turned in and found the wind blasting into my face. It's perhaps a half mile from the entrance to the Canoe Hale, and I had to grind every foot.

Bill and I looked like we'd been through a war, though he was bleeding from fewer places than I was. Go through a few dozen faceplants on your board and you'll probably cut some stuff. As I said, if this hadn't been the first Maliko after a long spell of no downwinders, we might have been a lot more relaxed. But were were bloody and bent. I guess it was fun. I think it was fun.

[stoneaxe]

Just another day..

[TallDude]

Sometimes it's..... What the hell did I get myself? You were more than there.... Now you guys have something to reflect on

[covesurfer]

I was biking yesterday morning. When I got home around 11:15, I got HM's message that you guys were mounting a mission. I'd seen Waiehu and the east swell on my ride, so Bill's message just gave me the mixed feelings of 'gee, I should go' and a sick feeling in the pit of my stomach. He said you guys were meeting at the harbor at 11 and I was 20% disappointed and 80% relieved that I was too late to go.

I've learned about big east windswell days from underestimating them. When you look up the coast, Kanaha doesn't look that bad on these days. But, if you look at it for a while, you begin to notice huge breaking waves randomly forming on the outer reefs. The sketch part is the 'randomly'. Big windswell unexpectedly bends in and jacks when it hits the relatively shallower waters off outer, outer Kanaha. That reef extends way out into what is usually a safe line. It never looks that bad from land, but as soon as you see the mouth at Maliko, you start having second thoughts. Once you start paddling out, you are committed and I too well know that feeling of seeing those monster swells rolling at you from the right as you head out. What the hell did I just get myself into? That is the burning question every single time I go on one of these days. Meanwhile, swells the size of four story office buildings just keep pumping down the coast. Your partners usually disappear in the chaos and you realize that you better get yourself down the run with minimum mistakes. No one is going to be there to help you if things go wrong. It's not that the conditions by themselves are going to do you in, it's if something goes haywire. A loose paddle blade, a broken rudder cable, or maybe a fall, a tomb-stoning board and a broken leash. It's not going to be a no fall run, that much is a given.  I definitely prefer a SUP to an OC1 on these big days, because of the increased possibility of breaking the boat but the speed in the OC1 is amazing and speed is your friend when it's big like this. But, when you're sitting, you can't see much ahead of you. I've had days where, when I approached Sprecks, I realized there was way too much going on and start paddling more to the outside. A few times, I bet I've gone out close to almost 2 miles, WHY THE F*CK IS IT STILL BREAKING OUT HERE!?!? Then, it's a struggle to get to the mouth. And, without the crane, it's harder to get yourself lined up.

Anyway, it's mixed emotions about these kind of days for me. It looks amazing again today but jumping into a run, when the last time I paddled a SUP downwind was weeks ago, isn't exactly ideal. Once you leave the gulch, and you're out in those wild and powerful elements, there is no doubt that you are an ant and that the ocean does not care. It just does what it does.

[eastbound]

sounds exciting, if not fun, especially since youre discusssing it now!

[PonoBill]

I know all about outer upper, upper outer Kanaha. I think I named it, though there might be another outer and upper in there someplace. It's my least favorite place to get caught. It's not really random in location though it's hard to pinpoint--too many times I've thought I was well clear and found myself paddling right over the top of it--but it shows up when you don't expect it. I've had it drop right on top of me, drag me twenty yards, and then turn from breaking Peahi wave to a gentle roller, leaving me staring in every direction thinking WTF just happened. Then there was the husband and wife in the two macanu in one of the MCKC races that were paddling blissfully along when their ride got turned into a kit. I let the lady rest on my board until the jet ski came for her and she was still hysterical and screaming a little when they got her. So that was fun.

Actually, today wound up being a mess, and I'm glad I had an appointment with Ms. Pierce to get my various body parts pointed back in the right direction. I'll be interested to see if anyone had a good run. Looked like storm crap from my house. Lots of wind, and LOTS of swell refracting in. But it looked like it went offshore quickly and the big east swell remained. The rest of the week looks good. East swell still big until Friday, when it drops down to 11 feet.

I think the morning might work for foiling at the harbor and then a Maliko. I'm double checking all my gear tonight. In the meantime, I'm keeping my core engaged, firing my glutes, standing on both legs, and doing all those stretches. Yes sir, ma'm sir. There's a new sheriff in town.

[covesurfer]

The random observation is specific to big east windswell. When it's a normal groundswell, it's still hit or miss but a bit more regular. My experience has been that big east swell does weird things, like that weird wave in the triangle. Stuff is going east to west and then it's out-of-the-blue (get it?) bending into a breaker that is going to travel right on in to Kanaha.

My last unexpected big east day was actually in July last summer. Had no inkling that it was going to be a-verge-of-terror-run. They'd been saying 'big east windswell' for four days and it was nothing out of the ordinary. Then, I went again and took a late shuttle that ran at 3. It was blowing about 25 mph at the top and 35 mph plus from Baby Beach on to the end. I was in my OC1 and there maybe 5 of us on the shuttle. The freaking swell was huge. Big enough that there were plenty of drops I held back on, especially paddling my OC. 

I never saw anyone after the first mile or so. Just by my lonesome out there in the waning afternoon in huge conditions wondering if I was nuts. It was the typical big run, when I got in, I wanted to kiss the sand but I also was super stoked that I'd pulled up my Big Boy Boardies and gone. The only reason being that I had no clue what I was about to get into. From the views on the way up, it looked like a small but windy day. Once I got to the mouth of the gulch, I knew what it was going to really be like. Too late to back out by then.

Anyway, I'm not gonna lie, yesterday looked hairball to me. I could see the conditions from up the hill and it looked very festive. Today was much weirder than yesterday. The wind looked like it sheared off completely on the inside, very ESE, maybe even SE. It looked like there was wind on the inside at the top but that it went straight towards the east tip of Molokai. It might have been do-able but the swells were breaking all over the place and big swell/light wind isn't exactly ideal.

And, of course I know you named upper outer inner upper outer outer. They practically are ready to put 'Pono's Reef' and 'Babcock's Bank' as official names on the NOAA charts.